Death Mage's Nemesis (Death Mage Series Book 4)

by Jon Bender

  Taking his place on the driver’s bench, the shade joined him. “I don’t know your name,” he said, realizing he could not continue to call her ‘the shade’ during their entire journey.

  She looked up at him, her brow lifted in surprise. “Hailey.”

  He nodded and gave a flick of the reins to get the two draft horses moving. Within the hour they were back on the main road. He would regroup his people and find the alliance. When ready, they would return and take back their city.

  Keller watched as the thin crack running from the top of the wall all the way to ground slowly began to close, the stone melding together to fix the damage that had been done. It almost seemed pointless with the large gaping holes next to it. Even after the earth mage had moved downward, Keller could still see where the space had been. Like a scar that had healed years ago, but clearly visible. Unlike a scar, however, it was not stronger than where the wound had first been. The wall would forever be weakened until it was torn down and rebuilt. To make matters worse, the earth mage had told him the damage extended beyond what could be seen. The foundation stones were also unstable. When the alliance arrived, they would need only to concentrate their attacks near the base of the wall for a short time to bring the whole thing down. The mage doing the work, whose name he could not remember, stood before the wall in his brown robes with his hands outstretched. There had been two of his school within the city, the second having died the night before. That left only him to repair what the rebels had done. The man was obviously tired with dark circles under his eyes and the slowness of his movements. Not surprising since he had been up all night, fighting with only the morning to rest before beginning his work. Keller had ordered messengers to ride north to ask that other earth mages be sent to speed up the work. It would take weeks for those riders to reach their destinations and weeks more for the mages to arrive. There was also no guarantee that many would be sent with so few of the other schools loyal to Or’Keer.

  The sections of the wall that had been completely destroyed now had hundreds of laborers clearing away the rubble. They would work day and night so that when the freshly cut stone arrived, the masons would be able to begin their work immediately. Even with every skilled stone worker in the city being conscripted and those who would arrive over the next few weeks, it would still take many months if not a year to make the southern wall whole again. He was sure that the alliance would arrive well before that.

  “We should have sent patrols out sooner,” Benkt said from behind. “By now, many of the traitors are far from the city.”

  Keller did not offer a response. He was in no mood to give the reasons behind his actions. Especially since the priest could be the weapon used to kill Keller for his failures. He would be explaining himself soon enough to Or’Keer directly. The Dark God likely knew what had transpired throughout the night from the prayers of his servants. He was not looking forward to facing the wrath of his god, but neither would he hide from it. The responsibility for what had happened was his alone, and he would accept the consequences for his choices.

  He had waited to send out patrols further away from the walls to first bring Karadin back to order. The fires had all finally been extinguished, but not before doing considerable damage to many buildings. Many of the bodies littering the street had been removed, the first estimate he had received from Taft putting the total number of dead at over two-thousand. It was important to handle the problems left in the wake of the insurrection, but that was not the whole reason behind his delay. He had had his fill of fighting and death, and was not eager to face it again so soon.

  Keller looked over his shoulder to the priest. “Are you ready?”

  Benkt looked from the repair of the wall to him. The expression on his face looked to be conflicted. His brow furrowed while biting his lower lip. “Yes. I have rested enough.”

  Keller turned back to the wall and nodded, but his eyes drifted higher to the blue sky holding a scattering of wispy clouds. The moment might be the last time he was able to appreciate the world around him. “Then let’s go.”

  He was only slightly aware of the journey back to the northern city. The streets were still mostly empty of people as priests scoured every building for any remnants of the rebels who may yet remain. Already hundreds of people had been taken who were suspected of having some relation to those involved. Those that were out, stayed huddled close to the walls of the buildings as soldiers passed, and dropped to their knees with heads to the ground when they caught sight of Keller. The whole of the city knew who he was now.

  They passed the charred remains of barricades and carts loaded with bodies that would be taken out of the city for mass burial. Reaching the bridge, all of the debris had been cleared, but the grey stone was still scorched and blackened. The magically assembled stone had not been damaged by the flames, though he was not sure how many seasons of rain it would take before the stain was washed away.

  Once in the temple, Keller followed Benkt down to the prayer room and sat down facing him on one of the large cushions. They had not spoken on their walk, and neither felt the need now. Benkt lowered his head and began to pray. Within seconds the small lamps in the room began to dim until the darkness overwhelmed their light. He didn’t bother casting to enhance his eyes. In fact, he had not cast since waking up in a bed with Benkt sitting next him looking exhausted from healing his wounds. It had felt wrong to use the gifts granted him after failing so completely. Sitting in the void that was Or’Keer’s presence, he could only see the silver outline of his god enveloping Benkt.”

  The Dark God sat there in silence staring at Keller who could not bring himself to look up at the face of his master. Keller thought that perhaps he was deciding what punishment would be appropriate. He feared that death would not come swiftly, that Or’Keer would hold him in life until sanity had flown and there was nothing left of himself. When he could no longer stand the silence, he looked up into the silver-lined void that was his god’s face.

  Finally, you are prepared to face my judgment, the deep voice boomed.

  Fear raced through his body. He wanted only to curl into a ball to avoid the powerful being. “Yes, my lord. I have failed you and I’m ready for whatever punishment you deem needed,” Keller said, proud that his voice remained so steady.

  Very well, Or’Keer said without emotion. I find no fault in any of the choices you made in finding the heretics or the destruction of my city.

  Keller felt like the sword that had been hanging over his neck had been unexpectedly withdrawn at the last second. He wanted to simply accept the word of his god and be thankful for his mercy, but guilt and shame of failure would not allow him to simply leave it be. “I don’t understand.”

  You need not understand my will! Or’Keer shouted and leaned forward to loom over Keller. Unconsciously shrinking into himself, the sound of his god’s anger left Keller feeling as if his ears were bleeding.

  Or’Keer sat back seeming to calm. But you have served me faithfully, and I will grant you the blessing of my wisdom. The depth of the corruption in Karadin was unknown even to me – that Prasil himself worked to counter my purpose. Because of you, the conspiracy was forced to play their hand before the tumor could grow further. Now when the cursed death mage and his allies come, we will not be concerned with sabotage from within.

  “I see, my lord, and I am pleased you are happy with my service,” Keller said, his shoulders slumping in relief.

  The silver outline of Or’Keer’s face tightened, his eyes narrowing to burrow into Keller’s being. Your blundering success does not alleviate your failure with the one you brought me as a supplicant for my gift. I knew her heart not to be pure, but decided to trust in your judgment, trust that was not warranted.

  Keller’s body trembled, but he was not yet dead or suffering unimaginable pain. This gave him hope that there was a way to regain favor. Or’Keer’s mention of Hailey made him acutely aware of her presence. The emotions he normally felt from her had dull
ed with distance. Enough so that he could only tell in what direction she was and that she was still moving further away. “Please, my lord, I beg to know how I may correct my mistake.”

  Fool! Is it not obvious? Why do you think I bonded her to you? I have always been aware of your… sympathies for those who will not follow my path. You think them merely misguided, that all can be shown a better way. Now you understand the depth of the corruption the old gods have seeded within mankind.

  So her acceptance as one of the faithful and been a lesson and perhaps a test. Or’Keer had known she would betray them. The bond between him and Hailey had been intentional, but why would his god want him to feel her doubt, doubt that had led to his uncertainty in the path.

  “My lord, the bond has made me aware of her –”

  It will be you who finds her, and you who deliver the justice she is due, Or’Keer interrupted, impatience evident in his powerful voice. Once you have brought her to me, I will remove the magic that allows you to sense where she is.

  Keller bowed forward and placed his head to the cool stone. He had made no mention of the other aspect of the bond. The only conclusion he could come to was that Or’Keer was not aware of it. The thought shook him to the core. “I will do as you command.”

  You may redeem yourself while accomplishing the next task I have for you, Or’Keer said, not seeming to detect any change in Keller.

  “Anything, my lord.” He always knew that Or’Keer was not omnipotent, but that he had not known he had created such a profound link was beyond staggering. His god had made a mistake.

  You will take a force south to slow the alliance’s advance. Those loyal to me across the fifteen kingdoms have failed to halt their progress, and the pawns of the old gods have moved with more speed than I anticipated. I need time to assemble my forces to throw them back, and then we will continue bringing all men to the path.

  If Or’Keer had made a mistake in creating the bond, what else could he have been mistaken about? The idea that his god was fallible shook the foundation of who he was, and it took all his willpower not to show it. His whole life had been devoted to this being. To learn that there was a chance he had been wrong in his devotion was almost shattering. “I will not fail you again.”

  Or’Keer crossed his arms across his broad chest and nodded. You will strike from the darkness, and teach them to fear the night. Most of all, you have one goal above all others and will sacrifice anything to achieve it in my name. Find all those of the death mage school that you can, and end their threat.

  The darkness began to fade and the light of the lamps returned. When the form of his god was gone, Benkt sagged forward with his hands on his knees struggling to draw breath. Keller stared at the priest as he processed the revelations.

  What he had learned confirmed the doubts he had always had. But what were his options? People like his family were still subjugated by those with power. Could he turn his back on Or’Keer and allow such injustices to continue? The answer was no. Even if the Dark God was not perfect, his path was better than what mankind had now.

  When Benkt had recovered he sat up straight and looked at Keller with wide eyes. “I am glad you found his mercy.”

  “As am I. Now I must be worthy of that mercy,” Keller said, his doubt fading. “We will prepare a force of the faithful, our most capable men, and your brothers. I will need some them to sacrifice their bodies to the transformation for what Or’Keer demands.”

  Benkt nodded without hesitation. “We will do what is required of us.”

  The priest’s unwavering faith helped to bolster Keller’s own. “It is time that all of the fifteen kingdoms are brought to the path.”

  Epilogue

  The sun was an hour away from setting, its glare forcing Harlow to squint as they traveled west. The heat of the day had only relented slightly even with night approaching, and he was already searching for a suitable camp site. There were only a few stands of trees off in the distance that would offer protection and possibly even a small pool. Water continued to become scarcer the further they traveled, and they would need to refill their skins and barrels for the horses soon. The sky rarely offered rain. When it did, it would come without warning and with a fury before stopping just as suddenly. They would rush to open every container they had before the dry ground drank it all. He had never been this far south in his life before. Traders had told him of the unforgiving heat and the great desert – a place of hills made from sand that moved with the wind. He had never truly believed that such a place existed. Now he was sure it did.

  Using the sleeve of his shirt to wipe his brow for what felt like the hundredth time, he wondered how he had any skin left. Looking to Hailey, her brown hood was drawn all the way down to protect her face from the sun. He did not know how she could stay covered like that. Likely some aspect of the magic she had been infected with. No matter how hot it became, she never seemed uncomfortable or to even sweat, something he had been envious of for the past two weeks as they continued in the south-westerly direction. The journey was taking longer than it should have with such a meandering path. They were not running in a straight line through Vil’Real intending to throw off any pursuit. They avoided most cities or towns when they could in an attempt to reduce the evidence of their passing.

  Looking over his shoulder, Marish was reclining against the side of the wagon amongst the barrels and sacks. The man was much thinner now from the hard journey, evident from his unlaced shirt to help keep cool. Facing him, Fulvia continued to stare off into the green and gold grass-covered land. She had gotten better over the past month as they traveled, chewing food and sometimes looking at Harlow with recognition, but she was still not close to the person she had been. Behind the cart near a hundred and fifty men, women, and children rode horses or carts, but most walked in a kind of stupor. They were hungry, with the supplies they had brought or scrounged running low and the land offering little in game or edible plants.

  Still they continued on, and seeing them do so brought a rush of pride with it. They had sacrificed everything to obtain even the small victory in Karadin, and now they endured hardship to continue that fight. That pride was soon overwhelmed with guilt as he watched a girl no older than ten, stumble. Her father, still carrying a sword sheathed at a hip, reached out to steady her. Lifting her small frame, the man placed her on his shoulders and continued on without complaint. He could only comfort himself with thoughts of a future for them without Or’Keer. A place where the man could raise her without fear that he would one day be taken for no other reason than suspicion of thinking for himself.

  Harlow had found most of the group on the road, some leaving when they discovered that a shade was amongst the caravan. The fear of her kind was ingrained so deep that they would rather risk traveling alone than with her. Even though her presence alone created fear, he had not asked her to leave. During their journey, she would help tend to Fulvia, and at night would use her abilities to scout for them, her forays having helped them to avoid possible danger several times. So far, he had seen nothing to validate his concern that she may be a spy. She never asked questions of him or those who resisted Or’Keer, and spoke only when it was necessary. Otherwise she kept herself apart from all but him and Fulvia. It seemed to Harlow that she felt lost, out of place. It was not something he could help her with, but he was glad she had decided to stay with them.

  “How much further?” Marish asked in a whining tone, one that he used much more of late. The man was used to living in comfort and wealth, and seemed offended that he had to relieve himself in a hole in the ground like the rest of them. It grated on Harlow’s nerves, but he did his best not to let it make him angry. The pompous faction leader had given it all up for their cause, though he had explained to Harlow that he had hidden much of his wealth for when they return.

  “I am not sure,” Harlow said, trying to keep the agitation from his voice. “We must be nearing the border between Vil’Real and Ostega, if we haven’t pass
ed over it already. I thought we would have found alliance scouts or even advanced patrols days ago.”

  Marish grunted. “If they even exist. For all we know, it was just some story invented by Or’Keer’s dogs to scare people.”

  “They are real. Our own people came back with reports of a large army making their way west,” he said, this time unable to hide his irritation at the man’s pessimism. Mostly because it was possible he was right. The information they had was mostly second-hand knowledge. There was no real way to know how much was fact and how much was rumor.

  “All of the fifteen kingdoms are at war. Armies are marching everywhere from what we have heard. Truth has a way of becoming distorted over great distances,” Marish said, speaking Harlow’s thoughts aloud and not seeming to understand the effect his words were having on him.

  Unable to resist any more, Harlow whipped around on the bench to look hard at the former merchant. “I will not believe that everything we have lost, everything we have sacrificed, everyone who died, was for nothing. And if that is how you truly feel, then leave and make your own way.”

  Marish met his stare for only a moment before dropping his head. “I’m sorry Harlow. I’m just tired,” he whispered.

  Harlow drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “No, I am sorry. We are all tired, but we have to keep going. If the alliance is not what we think, then we will build one of our own. Whatever it takes, we will defeat the Dark God.”

  Marish looked back up and gave a firm nod. “I think I will walk awhile.”

  The cart rocked slightly as he jumped down. A few minutes later it rocked again as the man with the daughter climbed into it, Marish handing the girl up to him. Settling in, the girl nestled her head against her father’s shoulder and was quickly asleep. He watched as Marish set his eyes forward to their path and felt any remaining irritation with the man evaporate as he limped along. In the end, he was one of them and would do what was necessary. Marish walked for a bit by the cart as the sun began to set, its low angle casting long shadows and forcing Harlow to stare at his boots or be completely blinded.